Every Halloween
by The-dead-make-no-sound
Summary: Freaks will turn on Freaks if you kill one of their own. They will burn and destroy out of vengeance, and if they can't come after you, they will destroy someone you love - and for Edward Mordrake, that someone was Avis. Can Edward convince his malicious other half that Avis is the freak it is looking for in time to save her from a crueler death? (All chapters edited and fixed)
1. Halloween, 1953

**(A/N) This is the first chapter of many to come. With every chapter I will write songs that are either relating to or, for future chapters, in the chapter. Also, Avis is pronounced '_Ay-vis', _just so there is no confusion.**

Halloween, 1962 

Even her wrists were beautiful to him, white as the fallen snow, the prominent veins beneath like blue rivers hiding beneath her skin. She trusted him to hold her hands - her delicate, strong hands that had been so kind to him. She did not tremble, did not flinch or cry. She was calm in the face of her death, her head held high, a smile on her lips and love in her eyes - love he felt he did not deserve.

There was no damsel here, not in her, not his Avis.

The monsters that wished to end her banged at the wooden walls, thirsty for the blood within his darling.

They could not have her.

"_She is ours to claim, not theirs." _The demon face hissed possessively.

"Not ours - Mine"

**Nine years earlier**

Halloween, 1953,

Voices muffled through red Saturn walls as Avis Valerie looked into her crystal ball and announced the fortune that came into her mind.

"I see a green light, and a man in dark yet formal attire." She told, her fingertips hovering over the surface of a crystal ball - though Avis needed not the ball of glass to tell a fortune, the costumers drank it in.

"Is it a stage light? For the up coming school play my daughter is in?" The woman asked, clutching her purse as she leant forward, her curled hair falling over her shoulders before she could tuck it behind her ear.

"No. Beware this man in a top hat, he has a dark purpose and death hangs around him and you." Avis told with urgency.

"Do you have his name?" She woman asked, eyes wide and brows raised.

"Edward Mordrake."

The woman paid handsomely for her fortune each week, and Avis's accuracy kept her coming back. Her presence left the scent of expensive perfume within Avis's tent after she left, and she lit a stick of incense to combat the sickly sweetness.

The Autumn night was alive with the chirps of crickets and the merriment of the carny folk of the circus. The wind was warm and gentle and the moon was bright. Avis packed her equipment away and retired to the extension of her tent that was her bedroom, the long thin silk gown that she wore served her well in evading the unsusual warmth of the evening.

She removed the pins holding her red hair in place with delicate hands, letting her wavy locks fall by her fair face. She gave a sigh as the work of the day weighed down on her, but the woman had been her last client so she let herself unwind.

"That reading wasn't meant for that woman, Avis." Charlie said as he appeared in the room, his ghostly presence sending her sixth sense wild.  
>"I know. But I had to give her something." Avis said, looking up at the flannel clad, blonde as he stood in the corner of the room.<br>"He's coming tonight, Red." Charlie said urgently, "the others say he has an extra face - on the back of his head!" He exclaimed, adding the extra drama to the news that only a fourteen year old could.  
>"And the girl in the next tent has three legs? What difference does it make?" Avis replied, unamused.<br>"He'll want you to tell him about the asylum." Charlie added, his usually cheery demeanour replaced with uncharacteristic worry.  
>Avis' breath caught in her throat and she took a moment to compose.<br>She felt Charlie's big blue eyes on her and she shifted under his gaze.  
>"Be careful, Red." Charlie said before vanishing, leaving Avis with her newfound nervousness about the man's impending arrival.<p>

Through the curtain to her reading room she saw a luminous green light and heard the footsteps of another.

"I'm not doing anymore readings tonight." She called as she walked into the room.

In the middle of the room, stood a man dressed in formal attire - top hat, cane and all - with dark hair and piercing mint green eyes and lips that had quirked up into a small smile.

"I am not here for a reading, my dear." He said, his accent foreign and unrecognisable to Avis's ears.

Avis clutched the drapes between the two rooms and stood in their wake, cautious of the stranger.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"Take a seat," he said as he himself sat upon a cushioned stool at her reading table, "we have much to discuss before the night is through." The ghost of a smile curved his lips and added amusement to his voice which left Avis with chills.

Something was not right.

"You should know that if you are looking for a bed to occupy tonight, it is the show girls that provide that service, not me." Avis said, attempting defiance.

"I'm afraid you have the wrong idea about my intentions on this night. I do not wish to fill the space between your legs, I come for your sorrows, for the tale of your darkest hour. For tonight, I will take one freak from these grounds with me to the depths." The dark haired man informed with theatrical flare.

"_My sorrow?_ I am not a _freak_. You've got the wrong tent." Avis replied, raising a brow in confusion.

Your gift, my dear, means you fall into the same class as the deformed that preform in the freakshow."

"Oh," She muttered, clutching the emeralds at her neck, and sitting on her usual seat, "What do you need to know?"

"Tell me, sweet one, how you came to find yourself in this place." He said, leaning forward attentively.

"I guess you could say it started when I learnt to talk. I was able to tell my parents of the things I knew and the apparitions I saw, the ones much like yourself,_ Edward Mordrake_." Avis said, addressing him with a slight smirk.

"Ah," he said with a husk to his voice, "so you know who I am?"

"I'm a clairvoyant, of course I know." Avis replied.

"Well, don't be shy, my dear, tell me of your woes." Edward urged, edging an inch closer to hear her story.

"Well, as I said, it started when I learnt to talk. I would talk to my ghost friends, and I was able to tell my mother things that would happen during the day. Since I was a child, she thought I just had imaginary friends. Only my friends never went away." Avis bowed her head, looking to her lap and back at the ghost in the seat before her, who listened closely to her words, his brows furrowed with sympathy.

"My parents grew concerned, but they never thought something was wrong. Until I turned 13, and I saw-" Avis bit her lip to combat it's quivering as the memories flooded her head, "Until I saw my Dad's death. I begged him not to leave the house and told everyone I could find. No one believed me, and when he crashed his car later that day, suddenly I was a freak."

The first tear fell from her eye, granting permission for more to follow. Edward leant forward, handkerchief in hand and wiped them away.

"How dreadful." He offered, attempting to convey his sympathies. Avis kept the cloth as he returned to his original position.

"My mother had me admitted to an Asylum the following week," she continued, scrunching the tissue in her hand, "I think part of the reason she sent me away was because she blamed me for not stopping Papa's accident. She never told me, but I could see it in her eyes."

Edward said nothing but occasionally offering a look of empathy.

"I didn't make it out until I was 16."

Avis heard a faint whispering as she fell silent and Edward appeared to look over his shoulder.

Avis knew of the face hidden behind his back, the spirits had told her all about the 'demon' on the back of his head. She swallowed thickly, loosening her tongue to avoid choking on her words.

"What's it saying?" She asked, cocking her head, sneakily attempting to steal a glance, but Edward seems to turn to hide it.

He considered her, mouth slightly agape as if scared to speak.

"He wants to know about the guard." He said softly.

Her body quaked and her tears fell uncontrollably.

"I can't." She shook her head and rose from her seat, retreating to her room behind the curtain.

Edward Mordrake sighed, cursing his demon half. He moved quietly across the room, his cape swaying at his calves and his cane making muffled taps against the ground.

He stepped into the lady's room with respect.

"I'm sorry to have upset you, but the demon demands answers." He said as he moved swiftly to her side, sitting upon the plush covers of the bed beside her.

She teased the handkerchief in her hand as she cried, reliving the horrors of her time in asylum as if she were still there.

Edward sat in silence, waiting for her to continue her tale.

He was startled by the sudden impact of her head falling against his shoulder as she leaned into him, her cries softened to gentle sobs.

"The night I escaped," she began, "I thought I was free, when one of the guards, an older man, caught me. I begged for him to let me go, and he told me he would if I -" she closed her eyes and took a breath to build the strength she would need to recount the events of the night. "If I got on my knees for him." She admitted with shame.

"I didn't want to be in that god forsaken place anymore. So I did. It was disgusting and I was so ashamed."

"How horrible for you, and you were only 16." Edward said, allowing her to seek comfort in leaning against him.

"After that," she said, her eyes flickering to red Persian rug on the ground, "he wanted to do more to me. I fought back as best I could, but when he finally got me on the ground, I found a nail and stuck it in his neck. Blood sprayed everywhere and he died on the ground in front of me."

Edward rose without a word and stood in front of her, hands piled above the handle of his cane.

"Thank for your story," he said as he took her hand and pressed his lips gently against her knuckles - bidding her goodbye as a gentlemen would, "I apologise for your pain, but you are not the one."

He turned to retreat into the night but Avis stood - feeling robbed of her right to the mans presence after he had come unannounced.

"Wait-"

**playlist songs for this chapter:**

**_Edward's song - 'Holy water cannot help you now  
>Thousand armies couldn't keep me out<br>I don't want your money  
>I don't want your crown<br>See I've come to burn your kingdom down' _ S Seven devils - Florence + the machine**

**_Avis' song - 'The night was all you had  
>You ran into the night from all you had<br>Found yourself a path upon the ground  
>You ran into the night; you can't be found<em>' Lauren Palmer ~ Bastille**

**'_Don't fret my dear, it'll all be over soon_' Kingdom come ~ the civil wars**

**Elements ~ Lindsey sterling (orchestral version)**


	2. Halloween, 1953: part 2

**(A/N) Lines in _Italics_ are the demon face**

Edward Mordrake had never heard that word before - perhaps as his knife descended, but never as he turned to look at the woman with red hair, all wrapped in green - both silk and jewels - with a brow raised.

"What's _your_ story?" She asked, her urgency disappearing into curiosity.

"My story? My dear, I am not the one who must tell _my story_." He said with a scoff. His bluntness hid his surprise, a charade put up to allow himself dignity as he felt his palms begin to sweat.

"The spirits whisper about you like an estranged uncle who makes a mess of Christmas. They don't like you, Edward." She said, stepping to the edge of her bed with caution. "What have you done? Or what has he made you do?"

Her voice was so gentle, like sweetened tea on a winters night by the fire, comforting and alluring in every way.

Her hazel eyes remained on him and he could feel her unsurity through her stare.

"It is the demon who whispers to me that demands these horrible deeds be done, not I." He muttered, giving voice to the turmoil within his mind.

"What is it that you've done?" She asked, creeping forward, urging him to talk as he had done to her.

Edward looked up at her as she reached out to place a hand upon his shoulder and she froze.

"I will not speak of what I've done." He snapped.

'_Ignorant girl, I should have her for her idiocy_,' the demon hissed in his ear.

"Then something else? Tell me anything, make something up?" Avis suggested with a shrug.

Edward set his eyes on her with confusion, his mind questioning her motives and intent.

"Why?" He asked with suspicion, shifting away from her.

'_We do not have all night, there are freaks to interrogate, souls to drag into hell.'_ It whispered with venom in its words.

"Those things you made me talk about aren't pleasant to remember, and I need something else to think about instead." Her voice trembled as if she realised the insanity of her suggestion as she spoke, but her tongue had no words to salvage her.

Edward felt an ache he hadn't felt in years for the girl, something genuine and painful to endure - sympathy.

Avis looked to the ground, her red locks falling around her face as she teased the handkerchief Edward had given her.

The silence that dwindled between the two made the years spent in Hell seems like mere seconds to Edward.

_'Stay quiet, you fool! Don't you dare-_'

Edward spoke despite It's demands, "I was a man of noble birth in the nineteenth century," he began, the feeling given as Avis listened attentively was foreign but kept the words rolling off his tongue, "I prided myself on my abilities in music and literature, but no amount of dexterity could make people forget the demon beneath my top hat."

Avis sat on the truck at the base of her bed, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. It confused him that she would listen to what he had to say, but he knew all too well the desire to distract ones mind, so the madness of it seemed less so.

"What did you play?" Avis asked from her seat, a faint smile lingering on her lips as she spoke.

"Piano," Edward answered, finding himself smiling, "Mozart and Beethoven, I used to write my own pieces, too."

"Would you show me?"

Edward raised an eyebrow at her request. "My dear, I hardly think your tent is big enough to somehow hide a piano." He quipped in return.

"No," Avis said with a laugh, "there is absolutely no way I could hide a piano amongst all this junk, but the Big Top has one."

Edward's fingers tensed over his cane at the thought of them dancing across ivory.

"Alright." He agreed.

The piano sat at the edge of the stage, the stained redwood of its exterior glossy and smooth and shone even under the shadow.

Edward grinned as he saw it, the white and black ivory dulled from constant use and the leather cushioned seat worn from that many who had sat there and played a verse.

_'This is how you claim souls? Tickling ivory will not kill a freak. unless you intend to strangle her with the internal wires?'_

"Quiet-" Edward hissed, earning a concerned glance from the redhead in front of him.

'_She'd look quite delectable writhing beneath us as her face turns blue and her life fades-'_

Edward jerked away from the vile words of the demon, cringing at the image that presented itself.

"You are repulsive," He muttered angrily.

"Excuse me?" Avis questioned, stopping as she reached the piano and confronting him for his slander.

"My apologies, those words weren't meant for you." Edward said with shame.

Her hazel eyes narrowed for a moment before she turned to the instrument and let out a breath.

"This is it, the old Upright." She announced and Edward stepped forward, treading lightly, and sat on the soft leather.

His hands trembled as they hovered above the keys, his eyes racing over them and chest tightening.

The first note filled the room with sweetness.

Edward's fingers felt stiff as he found the following notes, but he smiled at the sound.

Slowly his joints loosened and his fingertips danced across ivory.

The rise and fall of the harmony had him entranced - he could have forgotten Avis was there, her eyes closed as she listened, smiling all the while.

As he wove the music from the keys Edward felt the burden of his summoning fall away, the voice of the demon silence, and the emptiness of death fill with the sounds of the piano.

Edward could have played all night, but every melody had an end.

It screamed about the sun that would rise within the next few hours, and Avis was asleep on the edge of the stage.

He sighed and ran a gloved hand over the keyboard once more before rising from his seat.

He stood over Avis's sleeping form as she lay curled around herself on the floor. Her red hair sprayed out below her like blood dribbling from her pale skin.

_'Kill her! We don't have much time!"_ It demanded.

Edward shook his head, gaze resting softly upon the girl at his feet. "No, not this one." He refused, "she is not the one."

Edward silently thanked her before stepping away, in need of a soul to end the night.

The closest caravan was small and smelt of sweat. Tension formed in Edward's shoulders as he stepped inside, the pungent odor of the room filled his nose and the crunch of a wrapper beneath his boot filled his ears and made him cringe at the ghastliness of the space.

The small boy who lay in the stretcher beyond the rubbish minefield was thin and pale, his hair tussled and dirty. His snoring was irritable.

"_Pathetic. I weep as I look upon his putrid form. Wake him to cease his noise."_ The other demanded.

"He is just a child, as filthy as he may be, no child is truely repulsive." Edward replied, hushing his voice as he crept forward from the door to look over the young boy.

"_It matters not whether he is truly vile or deranged, I see him fit and therefore he might as well be. String him up! We have not the time!"_

A slither of sun protruded through the curtains and Edward became aware of how dangerously close his deadline was.

Edward set down his cane. "He'll do." He said coldly, a rope appearing in his hand amongst a flurry of green mist.

Though he hated it, Edward always marveled at the strength death had bestowed upon him. His hands were strong, reliable, and death bringing.

The boy awoke with a yelp as Edward grasped his throat. He squeaked and writhed under the mercy of Edward's strength, thin legs thrashing, toothpick fingers clawing as he was lifted into the air, struggling to draw a breath into his lungs.

The childs breaths becames short, stuttered and desperate as the colour drained from his face and the determination of his thrashing faded.

Peace fell upon the boys face as he died.

_"It's all about presentation."_It said with amusement.

"You are without nobility." Edward cursed as he tied the noose around the boy's neck , hanging him from the roof like a decoration for the holidays festivities.

"_The final touch, Eddie."_It gently reminded, never without the malice in its whispering voice.

Edward'a fingers tense, his nails digging into his palm as they moistened with his contempt for what his other side desired.

He reached up to the skinny child's face, grasping his boney chin, and twisted his head around, the crunch of bone breaking and tissue tearing made Edward's empty stomach yearn for food if only to throw it back up.

He walked to his cane, and stood at attention with his hands folded over its carved handle. "We are done." He said, looking upon the hanging corpse with regret.

**Chapter 2 playlist Songs:**

**Edward's piano song: watch?v=3dM2qCCg6GE**

**'_I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind  
>There was something so pleasant about that place<br>Even your emotions had an echo in so much space' _ Crazy - Melanie Martinez**


	3. Halloween, 1954

**(a/n) thank you to all those that followed and reviewed and all that. It's always the kick I need to get off my butt and tackle ****my writers block. **

**hope you enjoy.**

**_Halloween, 1954._**

The freaks had settled into their merriment in the centre of the circus grounds, while Avis had begun her Halloween on the edge of the stage.

An array of flowers had been arranged in the centre of the platform around a small framed photo of 'Jelly boy', the flexible child who had died the previous year - found hanging in his van.

Warm yellow light bounced off the tent walls, creating shadows that danced like the candle fire that lit the room.

Avis dangled her legs over the side of the stage, starring at the yellow fabric of her dress skirt as she teased it.

She felt the air around her shift as Charlie appeared next to her, picking up the wine bottle at her side.

"I didn't take you as the drinker, Red." Charlie joked, taking a swig from half empty bottle.  
>Avis snatched it from his hands with a scowl, setting it on her other side.<p>

"You're too young too drink, Charlie."

"I've known you your entire life, Red, and yet, you still forget how much older I'm am than you," Charlie snickered, "if anything, I should be taking that wine from you." He said, nudging her side playfully.

"Don't you dare." Avis warned, fire burning in her hazel eyes as she looked at her dead friend.

"What's the matter with you?" Charlie asked defensively, shoulders growing tense as he encountered the guard Avis' had placed around herself.

"Just got a lot on my mind," She muttered, balling her skirt in her lap.

"Ya thinkin' about Jelly boy?" Charlie questioned, stealing a glance between the memorial behind him and the red head at his side.

"About Jelly boy, about the man that killed him, about Halloween in general," she replied, "I'm thinking about a lot of things really."

"As hard as you try, Red, you are a terrible liar. You're not here to sit by Jelly boy's tribute and devote your thoughts to him, you're here to sit by the piano and you know it." Charlie said, a level of distaste in his voice as he made the accusation. "Why are you stuck on him, the man with two faces? I mean, you do know he has two faces, right?"

A smile snuck onto Avis' lips at Charlie's inability to take anything seriously. Even when concerned he bantered. Avis took a deep breath, straightening from her slouch as she articulated an answer – as hard of an answer as it was.

"Curiosity, I guess," Avis began, her thoughts accumulating aloud for all to hear instead of within the walls of her mind where she should have kept them, "There was something strange about him –"

"You mean other than his second face?"

"Yes. It's like I was meant to meet him, like there's something more to that fortune. I… I've got to see him again. I have to find out what it is."

"So despite the fortune I gave you, the one that – in case you forgot – told you he would kill you, you still want to see him because of what? Curiosity?" Charlie questioned, "God you're as reckless as I am."

"Yeah, and I could use a decent drinking partner." Avis said, nudging Charlie, provoking a giggle from the flannel clad teen.

As the laughter died and the silence and dancing shadows reclaimed the room, Charlie's voice took the stage, quiet and meek.

"I can't stop you can I? You're going to call him again tonight, aren't you?"

"Yep," Avis replied, "and there isn't a thing you can do about it." She looked at Charlie for the first time that night, seeing the defeated look of worry in his chocolate brown eyes. "You can help me though, and watch over me like you've always done."

"From a distance, I will. But I'll have no part in helping you summon you're killer." He hissed, his voice as cold as the wind that shook the tent.

With that he was gone, and Avis was left with the candles, the dress she had chosen especially for the occasion, and the accusing eyes of Jelly boy.

The piano beckoned her, silently willing her fingers to play, and she gave in to its calls.  
>Her steps were light as she took her place upon the stage, sitting on the faded leather, fingers looming over ivory, ready to play –to perform. Avis mustered all the courage she could with one big breath – a single phrase sung from her mouth and she couldn't go back. She stood on the edge of a cliff, and all it would take to push her off the edge was a note, a single note.<p>

And she jumped.

Her fingers skimmed awkwardly across the keys and music filled the tent.  
>"I'm giving you a night call to tell you, how I feel," She sang with the opening notes, "I'm gonna drive through the night, down the hill."<p>

As terrified as she was, Avis kept singing, waiting for that green mist - that was her applause. "I'm gonna tell you something you don't want to hear, I'm gonna show you where it's dumped but have no fear."  
>As she hit the lower keys, she saw the luminous glow of green creeping between the seats, occupying the space of the audience.<p>

Avis smiled, looking down at the black and white below her fingers with a grin.

"There's something inside you, it's hard to explain." She sang, looking up to see the ghost standing in the seating aisle, mouth agape and confusion on his face. "They're talking about you, boy, but you're still the same."  
>She faded out the melody, stood, and with a playful smile, took a bow - adding a theatrical flare to the end of her performance.<p>

Edward did not move - his face frozen in a look of bewilderment.  
>"I know I'm terrible, but you could at least pretend you liked it." Avis quipped.<p>

"Why am I here -" he asked, standing to attention, his hands folded over his cane, "again?"

"I'm guessing you don't often visit the same place more than once?" Avis asked, her yellow skirt swaying at her knees as she walked to the edge of the stage.

"I can't say I ever have, and I find myself in the most horrible position of not knowing what to do with myself." Edward replied, his brows furrowed, "why did you summon me? Did I not already take one of your colleagues?"

"Yes, well..." Avis began, looking to the frame of the dead child, "I had to see you again."

Edward's brow raised in surprise as she looked at him.  
>"Me? My sweet lady, I'm am not the sort of person people call on out of desire for companionship, are you sure you are not mistaken?"<p>

"Yes I'm sure. Quite sure." She said as she sat on the edge next to her bottle of wine, taking it in her hands, savouring the smooth surface.

Edward stepped forward, stepping from the shadows of the seats into the light of the stage. "Is that so?"

"I needed - well, need - someone to drink with." She said, swirling the wine that shared its colour with her hair.

"You summoned me to this place... To share a drink?" Edward questioned.

"Do you want one or not?" Avis asked, her patience running short.

"It would be impolite to refuse." Edward said as he stepped forward, finding a position on the stage beside her. "Do you have a glass?"

"Just drink from the bottle." Avis said, handing it to him. She laughed as his face twisted with terror.

"Drink from the bottle?" He exclaimed, "Heaven's no!"

"You've never drunk wine from the bottle?"

"No."

"Well, there's a first time for everything." She snickered, nudging the bottle towards him.

Edward lifted the bottle to his mouth unsurely and took a sip, his nose crinkling up as he handed the bottle back to her, shaking his head and forcing himself to swallow.  
>"First and only time." He said with disgust, "I have never felt less like a gentleman in my entire existence!"<p>

Avis threw her head back an laughed.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because, you, Edward Mordrake, killer of freaks', feel your least gentleman-like act is drinking wind from a bottle." She said as she took a sip, the giddiness of alcohol adding to her amusement.

Edward sat for a moment with a sour look upon his face before his lips curved into a smile. Slowly his smile became a low chuckle and he shook his head at Avis' snide remark.

"It does sound absurd when you remark upon in that tone."

"Also, the face you pulled was pretty funny, too." She added with a titter. "It was like this-" Avis wrinkled her nose, mimicking the look he had given moments before.

Edward attempted composure but failed to suppress his amusement and his cackles filled the tent -contagious and loud.

"More?" Avis offered, ever the generous hostess.

"I'm afraid I must decline, it feels too improper to sip from the bottle."

Avis snorted, "If it's that horrible I can get you a glass?"

"If you don't mind." Edward said timidly.

Avis heaved herself off the edge of the stage, bouncing on her toes, adding a sense of mischief to her demeanour. "Come on then, let's go." She said, nodding towards the exit.

Edward froze, brows furrowing yet again - a re-accuring expression of the evening. "You didn't think I'd leave you, with your reputation, alone in my home, did you?" Avis said playfully.

"Excuse my boldness, but would it not be more plausible to not have me in your company at all?"

Avis rolled her eyes - he was almost as bad as Charlie when it came to complaining. "Come on." She groaned, grabbing his wrist and tugging him from his place leaning against the wood of the platform.

**Playlist songs for chapter 3:**

**_"There's something inside you,_**

**_It's hard to explain,_**

**_There's something inside you, b__oy,_**

**_ And your still the same," _ Nightcall - London Grammar**


	4. Chapter 4

**(Authors note)**

**unfortunately I have had my phone taken from me, which hold all my work so far and the Progress on the next chapter. This means that, until I get it back (which I will) I will be unable to update.**

**it may be a week, it may be a few days, I'm unsure. **

**Sorry for any inconveniences, but please bare with me. :) **


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